against the wind ...there's bad, and then there's bad choices
Six months pass, and I’m slapped with a paternity suit—Nicky’s pregnant. She's underage. I consider myself lucky I wasn't arrested or placed on the sex offender registry. Apart from that small consolation, my life is hell.
I’m working nights in a brewery of all places—watching bottles endlessly pass before a light.
Twenty minutes of staring mindlessly—and then, for variety, I rotate to a new task—risking losing an ear to flying glass on a packing belt as beer bottles drop into cases with occasionally twisted liners.
Half my salary goes to atone for my sin. I become what every cop hates—a pedophile.
I can’t be a cop because of booze—now I can’t teach kids because— My mind won’t allow me to frame the thought. I have to push the word out of my head.
How did this happen? I know—Booze, of course. The fact I can’t recall the details is nothing new—it happens all the time on benders—and doesn’t lessen the guilt.
My life goes on this way for two years until one day there’s a knock on my door. I open it to Janice Turner, a former student.
“Hi, Mr. Devine.”
I’m slightly hazy—fortunately, just getting started—so, I can put on a sober face.
“Hey Janice! What are you doing here?”
“I found out where you were staying and wanted to drop by and see you.”
Her face is so open and innocent—it actually hurts me to look at her.
“I’d invite you in, but, under the circumstances…”
She smiles. “It’s all right, Mr. Devine—we can talk out here.”
She motions to what passes for a garden. You don’t get much in a cheap motel.
We sit at a picnic table so old and weathered it’s turned gray.
“So, what’s on your mind, Janice?”
“I know all about it, Sir—so you don’t have to be embarrassed. Nicky filled me in on all the details.”
“I see.” My head’s aching and I scrub my face with my hands. I can feel heavy stubble—I probably look a mess.
“You say Nicky told you all the details?”
“She told everyone all the details. Kinda made me mad.”
“Ya well, that’s what happens, I guess.”
“Do you know what happened, Mr. Devine?”
“Not really—I was drinking—a lot. I was totally out of it.”
“I thought that’s what you’d say.”
I colored. “Guess we all need an excuse.”
“I know you didn’t do it.”
“Aw, Janice—thanks. I know you mean well.”
“No, Sir—I mean I know you didn’t do it, because one night when Nicky was drunk she told me what really happened.”
“I don’t understand.”
She looks off into the distance as if picturing the scene in her head.
“Nicky stayed over at her boyfriend’s that night. I guess you didn't know that."
I shrug and grimace at the memories surfacing inside me.. What's the point? My life is wrecked.
Janice senses my thoughts but plows ahead regardless.
"Well, the fact is Nicky got drunk and had unprotected sex. Afterwards, she started thinking—worrying she got pregnant. She came home and went upstairs to talk to you and saw you passed out on the bed. That’s when she got the idea.”
“What idea?”
“She decided to crawl into bed beside you and accuse you of sleeping with her.”
Janice’s words roared through my mind. The thought never occurred to me that Nicky would lie. But as soon as the hope kindled, it just as quickly died.
“Even if it’s true, the harm’s done—my reputation’s ruined.”
Janice was insistent. “Don’t you get it, Sir? Why hasn’t Nicky’s mom filed charges against you?”
“I don’t know—I figured she was letting me off, as long as I paid child support.”
“How much are you paying?”
“Half my salary.”
She looked at me pointedly.
The pieces began to fall into place. Emily had trouble making ends meet—that’s why she took me in.
“Are you saying Emily deliberately framed me so I’d keep paying child support?”
She was poker faced. “If I were you, I’d go to the authorities. I’ll testify in your defense about what Nicky said. You can demand a paternity test.”
I was so happy I wanted to kiss her—but under the circumstances, I just thanked her and politely shook her hand.
It turned out she was right. The minute my attorney mentioned a paternity test, Nicky folded and admitted everything.
My name was cleared and Nicky and her mom were charged with fraud.
I got my life back, but, the truth is, I can never go back—at least to the same place—too much of a scandal.
I know the drill.
They’d put me on a treadmill like a whisky teacher. I’d be always drowning and perpetually resurfacing like a deathless man flailing in his own weakness.
I couldn’t do ups and downs again.
Instead, I took a job as a salesman at a luxury car dealership. It’s not the same professional atmosphere as teaching, but it is more lucrative.
Janice and I remained friends. Actually, we’re dating. The rollercoaster ride of emotions has levelled off and so has my drinking.
Alcohol enabled me to withdraw to a place where I could be anesthetized.
I lived a myth where nothing mattered.
My sin was my weakness—my readiness to give up.
But it’s not over. I still struggle—I’m just not as brittle.
Now when life’s storms blow, I don’t hide, just bend.
I’m living the good life with Janice—savoring every feeling—getting stronger with the struggle.
Arm in arm now, we walk each day by the lake. We let the wind drown out all conversation.
I'm so happy watching the sun light up her hair.
With her, I feel I can face anything because we're in this together now, walking against the wind.
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Thank goodness! The happy ending I thought lost! ;)
Nice, unexpected sequel... You got me, John! :)
this writing game...I never know what these characters are going to do
Hi @johnjgeddes, I just stopped back to let you know your post was one of my favourite reads yesterday and I included it in my Steemit Ramble. You can read what I wrote about your post here.
thank you, @shadowspub. I appreciate the shout out and the kind words!
You're welcome